I Wish I Had Never Moved To Oakdale
by Paddy's Little Friend
Summary: Sequel to 'I Wish I Had Never Met You'. 6 years later from Noah's POV. Contains slight Luke/Reid


6 Years Later.

Florence, Italy.

I missed America. I missed Oakdale. I missed the University. I missed you, Luke.

Italy's my home, it's where I grew up, but it's not where I want to be. Not seeing you everyday, that smile, that voice, those amazing chocolate eyes which would envelope me with a love that I knew was never failing, that's what killed me.

At first I couldn't figure out why I wanted to move back to Oakdale, Illinois, after only a few days after settling back into the whole Italian way of life. Everything I knew had its foundations in Florence; my mother and her amazing family, my friends who I'd known since I was a toddler, my old school, the Church, the gorgeous Italian food. Yet there was a nagging feeling I shouldn't have ever gone back and somehow I convinced myself it was because I missed my father.

Weeks, months, years went by and I had suppressed any memory I had of living in that little town where everyone knew everyone's business. When someone asked me what I did whilst I was over there, I'd lie and say I couldn't remember. But I could, when I forced myself too, I could remember every single detail of the most amazing nine months of my life and it would take me mere seconds to fall in love with you all over again.

By the time I turned 25, everyone was pressuring me to find a wife and settle down, especially my mother. I didn't have the heart to tell her I was gay; she was diagnosed with a severe brain condition and I wanted her to live her last few months thinking I was about to start the next great journey of my life. Her name was Elisa and I'd persuaded myself she was the one for me, after six months of dating we were engaged to be married. I'd never seen my mother happier.

You may think this information is irrelevant to how I came back into your life, but I've always been one to pay attention to detail.

I had a job working for a national TV station and I loved every minute of it, my dreams weren't quite true – I wasn't a Hollywood director – but I was well on my way. _Ciao Ciao_ was fast becoming a hit and I adored it – it was my own little creation. But as my mother's condition worsened, I took time off work to look after her.

One Tuesday we were at the hospital and the consultant said that he could refer her to a world renowned brain surgeon in America who could save her life, Dr. Reid Oliver. Then he dropped a real bombshell.

'Dr. Oliver heads up a state of the art neurological wing at Memorial Hospital in a small town called Oakdale, a little outside Chicago.'

Oakdale, the one place I promised myself I would never return to, because the chances of running into you were unavoidable. And I knew that if I saw you, I'd feel the same way I felt days after I arrived in Italy.

If there was one thing I ever regretted in my life, it was not realising how I felt about you sooner, before I left the continent and was living half way around the world. Retrospectively, a year in someone's life is a very small proportion of it. However, in a year, a lot can change, and in that year, you turned my life upside down.

No less than two days after we had arrived in Oakdale, my mother and I were sat in a small white room. Fluorescent light reflected off the smooth, plain walls and disinfectant filled my nostrils. It was easily one of the most sterile places I'd ever been. Dr. Oliver was explaining the procedure to my mother, through my translation, and from the sound of it, he knew exactly what he was doing. My mother would be well again, the fit 55 year old she was before this deadly virus attacked her.

That was when it happened; I was giving Dr. Oliver some of my mother's details and you walked in. You were even more gorgeous than I ever could have imagined; the 6 years of our parting had treated you well. Your eyes were still the same beautiful brown colour I remembered, but they were wiser, older and more caring (something I didn't know could have been possible). I thought the smile, that gut-wrenchingly, painstakingly, stunning smile was for me, but then I realised you hadn't even so much as cast your eyes over me. Your arms slid around Dr. Oliver's waist and you whispered something in his ear before he turned around, smiled and lightly pecked you on the lips.

The moment my world collapsed: 2.15 pm, 16th June 2015.

The boy who was now a man, who I had fallen head over heels in love with days too late, was kissing my mothers doctor, lifesaver, right before my very eyes. Pain which I didn't know could exist struck me like lightening to the roof of a house. Every last thread of hope I had of us getting back together whilst I was in town with my mother had been torn from beneath me in measly seconds.

I followed you out of the room without realising I had done so. You immediately recognised me when I called out your name, breathing a small breath of life in my crushed dreams. We were talking again; it was easy and comfortable. You told me you had donated some of your inheritance to the new neurology wing and that was how you met Dr. Oliver. It was love at first sight, as I recall, but that love was only admitted after months of playful bickering and backhanded compliments. The twinkle in your eyes when you spoke of him was something I knew instantaneously; that twinkle had once been mine and it pained to see it when it had been stolen off me.

You asked about my love life and I told you I was engaged to a woman named Elisa. A smile lit up your face but behind your eyes, the eyes I had learnt to read regardless of whatever else you may have been doing or saying, told me something different. There was undeniable hurt behind them and I'd never once read them wrong before. Something changed that day and I don't know if it was for better or for worse.

Living in Oakdale for those few short months back when I was a teenager is something I wish I had never done, because I never would have met you. And meeting you meant falling in love, which hurt too much. I want to get over you Luke Synder, but I think that would make my life even more unbearable, perhaps loving someone forever knowing they'll never love you back will be easier than trying to find someone who does.

All my love,

Noah


End file.
